


I'll Tell You All About It When I See You Again

by Lush_Specimen



Series: Hotlock History [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27597083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lush_Specimen/pseuds/Lush_Specimen
Summary: Years have passed since Hot Rod and Deadlock last saw each other. After acquiring a new frame and a different name in the Crystal City, a newly defected Drift wanders through the Autobot’s base.All Drift wants is Hot Rod. When he can’t find him, Drift’s unshakeable faith begins to waver...
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime
Series: Hotlock History [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584421
Comments: 26
Kudos: 82
Collections: HotLock Week 2020





	I'll Tell You All About It When I See You Again

**Author's Note:**

> The grande finale of HotLock Week 2020!! A Driftrod bonus special!!
> 
> Guess who was listening to the Fast and Furious 7 soundtrack and getting emotional about race cars...  
> Spoiler Alert! It was me!! I challenge you to listen to "See You Again" by Wiz Khalifa and not burst into tears.

Drift wandered around another corner, peering down the empty hall before proceeding. Despite all the modifications the Circle of Light made to his frame, Deadlock’s long shadow haunted his every step. He had only been in the Autobot’s main base for a short time, but he had already grown weary of bots scuttling away as he approached. 

He fiddled with the red badge shining prominently on his chest. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. Maybe he should have abandoned both factions and continued his lucrative mercenary business. Despite the tempting allure of a solitary life of freedom, Drift joined the Autobots for a purely selfish reason. One that he still hadn’t found. 

Careful to avoid any unnecessary contact, Drift maneuvered silently through the base. The weight of thousands of dead Autobots pressed down on him. The walls inside loomed oppressively close. Overwhelmed by emotions he couldn’t define, he picked up his pace, sprinting for the nearest exit. 

Once outside, Drift leaned back against the wall and sighed from the depth of his spark. His vent fans whined, a hollow sound in the deserted yard. A shiver ran through his circuits. 

He tilted his head back to rest his helm against the hilt of Wing’s Greatsword, drawing comfort in the gentle pressure. Even though Dai Atlas had given it to him, he felt more like the sword’s caretaker than its proper wielder. It would always belong to Wing. That thought made Drift smile despite the emptiness in his spark. Although Wing was yet another casualty of his horrific tendency to bring disaster upon anyone who cares about him, at least some part of his mentor survived. 

“I don’t know what to do,” He mumbled, half to himself and half to the sword. 

He could picture Wing, smirking at him with a confident light shining in his golden optics, like he already knew the answer but wouldn’t tell him. Obnoxiously, he wanted Drift to figure it out for himself. “What do you want to do?” He would ask. 

Drift brushed at the tears welling up in his optics. “I want to find Hot Rod.” 

“Well then,” his memory of Wing shrugged with easy grace, “why don’t you do it?” 

“Yeah. Like it’s so easy,” Drift sarcastically groaned and rolled his optics. He slowly slouched down to sit of the ground. Since he’d already been talking to it, he drew Wing’s Greatsword and laid it reverently across his lap. 

“Hot Rod told you that if you ever wanted him, you’d know where to find him. You’ll never find him if you don’t get off your aft.” Wing’s ghost teased him. “There’s nothing like looking when you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.”* 

“Ugh. I don’t need riddles right now,” Drift muttered. “And I know exactly what I’m after.” 

“Do you really?” Wing asked lightly. He smiled, cryptic and annoying. 

Drift ran his fingers lightly down the length of the razor-sharp blade. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining this entire conversation or if he was having another vision. Either possibility made his spark ache. 

Whenever they crossed paths before, Hot Rod always invited Drift to join him. Although he went by Deadlock back then, his fearsome reputation never bothered the radiant little speedster in the slightest. In fact, Hot Rod reveled in their friendship in a way that Drift rarely encountered. He cherished every memory of their time spent together. 

Ironic. Drift snorted. He had never been ready to join Hot Rod when he asked. Now that he had finally gained enough clarity to discern what he truly wanted; he couldn’t find him. 

Meeting Wing in the Crystal City helped him realize many things about himself. In his zeal for a cause that had long ago lost its purpose, he nearly lost himself as well. He had surrendered his own name and become little more than a weapon in an endless war. A tool to be used at someone else’s behest. Reclaiming his old name was the first step in wresting his agency free from outside control. Towards someone that would make Gasket proud. Towards someone worthy of Wing’s trust. Towards Hot Rod... 

_Drift_

It was the name that Gasket called him. It was the name that Wing called him. It was the name used by people that he loved and who loved him in return. He wanted desperately to hear that name in Hot Rod’s voice. 

_Drift_

He thought Hot Rod called him Drift once before and the shock nearly killed him. They were racing, expertly skidding across the loose gravel in a makeshift factionless racetrack. Drift held a narrow lead when Hot Rod complimented his ability to drift around the corners. Hearing the word “drift” easily flow from Hot Rod’s mouth in his lilting Nyonian accent froze his spark in his chest. He nearly wiped out and that opportunistic punk took advantage of his distraction and passed him. 

Recalling that flood of emotions, Drift chuckled. He caressed the brilliant blue gem set in the hilt of the sword, the smooth surface a poor substitute for clever golden fingers entwining with his own. 

The sun began to dip below the distant horizon, casting long shadows across the ground. Drift shuddered. They seemed to reach out for him, as if the darkness sought to reclaim him. A gentle breeze brought evening’s chill and Drift found himself longing for warm plating decorated with flame decals. For a smile bright enough to keep the shadows at bay. 

Perhaps he should just ask someone? 

He quashed that thought as soon as it arose. Drift’s finials canted back. He knew how it would look. An ex-Decepticon asking after a specific Autobot? They’d probably kick him out on suspicion of murder. He didn’t dare tell anyone that they’d been friends for years either because he didn’t want to get Hot Rod in trouble. He might be able to access the base’s current roster on the computer system, but that would probably look even worse. 

Drift hunched his shoulders, crushed by mounting despair. He thought finding Hot Rod would be easy. The flashy speedster blazed with divine light that couldn’t be hidden, so why couldn’t Drift find him? Hot Rod said he’d be there for Drift. Always. But... where is “there”? 

He could practically feel Wing glaring at him, arms folded, foot tapping, seconds away from chiding him for moping. Drift sat up a little straighter. Without saying anything, Wing was right as usual. He needed to collect his thoughts. 

Slowing the cycling of his vent fans, Drift closed his optics. He focused on the steady revolutions of his engine. Shifting into a posture of meditation, Drift allowed his mind to wander through all his carefully curated memories of Hot Rod. 

He recalled his impossibly blue optics, sparkling with mischief. His boundless enthusiasm. The carefree way he drew Drift to himself as sure as a magnet collects metal filings. The way his tiny speedster frame contained an indomitable spirit, that strove to save everyone and never considered a righteous cause to be lost. His ridiculous pinkish paintwork plastered with gaudy flame decals that he wore so proudly. 

Drift smiled as the memories swirled around him like tongues of fire. He felt Hot Rod’s warmth once again protecting him from the twilight chill. The distant whine of a high-pitched racing engine echoed in his audials. It sang like the remix of a favorite song, familiar but at the same time completely new. 

“Ouch!” 

Drift nicked his finger on the edge of the blade and jolted out of his mediation. While the memories faded away, the sound of the engine persisted. Drift leapt to his feet, sheathing Wing’s sword in one fluid motion. Could that be Hot Rod? It didn’t sound quite the same as he remembered but was similar enough to make his spark blaze with hope. 

He focused on the sound, trying to pinpoint its location. Scanning the terrain, he caught a brilliant red flash on the outskirts of the base. 

Taillights!! 

Drift’s spark spun wildly in his chest as he took a few steps in that direction, drawn like a moth to the flame. His jog quickly turned into a sprint. Before he knew it, he was running as fast as his legs could carry him, tripping over himself in his haste. Desperate for more speed, he transformed into his alt mode and gunned his engine. Without all the heavy armor and artillery mods he wore as Deadlock, he sped lightly on his wheels. 

He caught another glimpse of the taillights in the distance and his joy spurred him faster. The road wound switchbacks up to the summit of the cliff that overlooked the Autobots’ base. Hot Rod once told him that he loved racing up to high places. Although Drift teased him that he liked it because it made him feel tall, Hot Rod said it reminded him of Nyon. His engine sang in deep harmony with the high-pitched echo of the speedster ahead. 

“I guess you were right after all,” Drift muttered to the Greatsword strapped to his back. Its weight pressed down like a comforting hand on his shoulder. “If you want to find something, you have to get off your aft and look.” 

Drift raced around every turn, expertly drifting through the corners like that day he and Hot Rod raced ages ago. They never did get to finish and determine an actual winner. Free from the heavy mods that he carried for so long, Drift wagered that he stood a much better chance of victory now. 

Nearing the top of the cliff, Drift slowed down. The closer he drew, the more nervous he became. He had changed so much in the years since he had seen Hot Rod last. What if Hot Rod changed as well? What if he didn’t have a place in his life for an ex-Decepticon that never had the courage to join him when he asked? 

At the very last switchback, Drift transformed and continued softly on foot. All he wanted was Hot Rod, but what if Hot Rod no longer wanted him. Drift struggled to reassure himself of their bond, but doubts gnawed at his spark. Hot Rod had asked him many times, never pressuring him to become an Autobot, but simply requesting that he stay by his side... 

Drift had always refused. His plating clamped tight. 

Drift crept cautiously into the clearing at the summit. He could barely make out a silhouette seated at the edge of the precipice, outlined by the last rays of a brilliant sunset. The distinct spoiler shape was spark-crushingly familiar but not quite the same. It was much larger and broader than Drift remembered though it still shimmered like liquid gold. The bot’s paint work wasn’t the same either. Hot Rod’s signature red leaned more towards pink. In the harlequin twilight, Drift could tell this bot’s color scheme was much darker and richer. 

He certainly found someone, but not who he was expecting... 

Conflicted and worried that a case of mistaken identity could cast doubts on him as a suspicious ex-Decepticon, Drift quietly backed away. His spark ached. He was so certain that he had finally found Hot Rod. As he turned to begin his descent, the hilt of Wing’s Greatsword caught on a low overhang. The sword shifted in the sheath and whacked him hard on the back of his helm. 

“Yow!” Drift yelped in surprise. 

“Hello? Someone there?” The bot seated on the edge of the cliff spun hopped up and spun around. 

“Um- yeah- sorry,” Drift stammered lamely, his attempt at a stealthy departure utterly thwarted. “I- uh- I didn’t realize anyone else was here.” 

“No problem! The view is great from up here! I love high places, because, for once everyone has to look up to me!” The bot laughed. 

Drift’s spark stopped in his chest. Hot Rod once said that exact same thing, but the figure in front of him stood twice as tall as the tiny speedster he remembered. 

“Come on over and check it out! There’s plenty of room!” 

“Oh! I- uh-” 

Against his better judgement, Drift found himself drawn to this mystery person. There was so much of Hot Rod in his charming demeanor. The way he casually invited a stranger to join him. The carefree laugh. The odd love of high places. 

“I’m Rodimus!” The fiery red speedster offered a golden hand and a disarming smile. 

“Drift.” He answered, automatically shaking Rodimus’ hand against his better judgement. Warm fingers firmly clasped his own. 

Drift studied the familiar stranger. He was so similar to Hot Rod yet extremely different. Rodimus was much taller, but then again, most people were. Drift suppressed a laugh as he imagined that fact bristling Hot Rod’s plating. His paintwork shone like fire, but with deeper crimsons and scarlets than Hot Rod's bright pinks. But his optics... his optics were the same. Bright, mischievous, and impossibly blue. Drift simply stared. 

“You seem really familiar. Have we met before?” Rodimus narrowed his optics. 

“Uh- no. I mean- NO!” Drift snapped out of his revelry. He canted his finials back and his plating twitched. He should go before Rodimus figures out that he’s an ex-Decepticon. He'll probably think Drift snuck up here to throw him off the cliff. 

“You sure?” Rodimus grinned and bounded towards him without hesitation. "I might not be great with names, but I never forget people. I KNOW you!” 

“No! There’s no way! I’m new here!” Drift stammered. He shook his head and shuffled backwards. 

“I’m sure now!” Rodimus followed him, either ignoring or oblivious to Drift’s attempts to slip away. 

“I told you! NO!” 

“I’m telling you! YES!” 

“I have to go!” 

“Come on!” Rodimus cajoled. He blocked Drift’s escape route as he circled around. Drift felt like he was being boxed in by a reckless wildfire. “I bet we’ve been friends for a long time! We probably go way back!” 

“I assure you that we don’t-” 

“Wow! You carry a bunch of swords?! That’s so cool! The big one with the blue shiny thing is totally rad! I like it! It was good vibes!” 

“A sword can’t have vibes.” Drift protested even though he actually thought the same thing. 

“That one does!” 

“If it does, it’s because it once belonged to someone very special.” 

“I’d say it still belongs to someone very special!” Rodimus grinned and heat flashed through Drift’s cheeks. “Does it have a name?” 

“It's called a Greatsword.” Becoming increasingly flustered, Drift cast a quick glance over his shoulder at Wing's sword, hoping for some reassurance. The blue gem sparkled mischievously. In the dim light it almost appeared to wink. 

“For real?! Now it’s even awesomer!” 

“That’s not even a word!” 

Drift’s circuits screamed at him to run away before this situation escalated any further, but the weight of Wing’s Greatsword inexplicably rooted him in place. Rodimus was an inescapable force, simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating. It was only a matter of time before he realized that Drift was a newly defected Decepticon and his good nature turned fierce, like a wayward firework igniting a raging inferno. 

“Where are you from?” 

“Excuse me?!” 

“I said: where are you from?” Rodimus relentlessly pushed. Edging closer. Smiling brighter. “I know you from somewhere!” 

“You couldn’t possibly-” 

“Where’re ya from? Tell me! Tell me!! Tell me!!!” 

“None of your business!” Drift finally snapped. A bit of his old Rodion snarl bled through his vocal processor in his unguarded frustration. 

Rodimus’ sparkling blue optics went wide and he froze. After flitting about like a tongue of living fire his sudden stillness terrified Drift. It felt eerie and unnatural. 

“S- sorry!” Drift hunched his shoulders. He shouldn’t have lost his temper. After trying so hard to appear nonthreatening, a little needling from a forcefully friendly idiot pushed him right over the edge. How could he possibly recover? “I- I didn’t mean-” 

“Oh my god. It’s you,” Rodimus softly whispered. A grin slowly drew across his face. 

“M- me?” Drift stuttered. His newly blue optics darted around, nervously searching for an opening. Rodimus probably recognized him as Deadlock. Drift’s vent fans whined. Was he expecting a fight? Drift wasn’t worried about losing. He had the utmost confidence in his combat skills, but he was concerned about getting in trouble. Maybe Rodimus was trying to provoke him? Or maybe Deadlock killed his friends and he wanted revenge? 

“HA! HELL YEAH!!” Rodimus barked a sharp laugh of disbelief and lunged forward. He wrapped Drift in a tight hug, pinning his arms to his sides. He laughed harder as he lifted Drift off his feet and spun wildly in circles. 

“I- I don’t understand!” Drift stammered. Out of all the possible outcomes of this situation a dizzying hug was right at the bottom of the list. He wriggled in Rodimus’ inescapable grasp. Rodimus’ infectious laughter tickled his frame. A reluctant smile tugged at Drift’s lips. No one had ever been so happy to see him. Even Wing wasn’t thrilled when they first met. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me!! Because I think about you all the time!” Rodimus giggled mischievously and squeezed him tighter. As he laughed, his carefully modulated vocalizer slipped, and the words took on a lilting Nyonian accent. 

Tiny flames danced along Rodimus’ broad spoiler. His flames glowed like divine light, tinting both of their armors radiant gold. Familiar warmth spread across Drift’s plating, a sensation he last felt when Hot Rod cuddled up to him as they spent a cold night together under the stars. Recognition struck Drift like a Greatsword blow to the helm. 

“OH, PRIMUS!!” 

“TOTALLY!! I mean- I'm flattered obviously- but Rodimus is fine,” Rodimus snickered and gingerly set Drift back on the ground and swayed about, obviously very dizzy. Drift instinctively grabbed his arm to steady him before he fell over. 

“Rodimus,” Drift whispered. The name flowed perfectly through his vocalizer. Like he was always meant to say it. 

“Yeah. A lot has changed, but I’ll always be the same Nobody of Nyon! How about you? Good ol’ Nunya of None of Your Business!” 

Drift nodded. He stared at him. At Rodimus! Finally!! So many nights Drift dreamed of all the eloquent things he’d say when he finally found him. Now he couldn’t even utter a single word. 

“Looks like you’ve been through some changes too!” Rodimus cheekily nudged the brand new red badge in the center of Drift’s white chest. “New name to go with the new look? If you catch my... Drift!” 

Hearing his name in Rodimus’ voice full of warmth and charm and love, even as a terrible pun, Drift’s optics began to water. It was as even more beautiful than he dreamed! 

“I like it! It suits you! So, Drift-” Rodimus halted when he noticed tears streaming down Drift’s face. “Whoa! Are you okay?” 

Rodimus knew Drift's history, but he never recoiled in horror or shied away. Not when he was simply an enemy soldier. Not when he learned about the difficult lines that he crossed to survive in the Dead End. Not even when he learned of his reputation as the most feared assassin in the galaxy. Somehow, Rodimus saw through all that and accepted him as a kindred spirit. Years of conflicting emotions broke against the last of Drift’s will. 

Drift flung his arms around Rodimus’ neck and clung to his warm plating. He held him tighter than he ever held anyone. “I can’t believe it’s you!” 

Rodimus curled protectively around Drift. “Sometimes neither can I,” he whispered softly, squeezing Drift tight. 

Drift buried his face in Rodimus’ neck cables. All his doubts burned away in the presence of Rodimus’ fire. He worried that if he let go, he might find their whole reunion was just a dream, part of another lonely vision. 

Through his many long and terrible years, Rodimus shone as the one bright spot. Drift believed in him long before Wing introduced him to Primus. He clung to memories of their times together as proof that at least some good existed in the universe. After the things he’d done and lines he’d crossed, Drift didn’t think he could ever truly believe in himself. But his faith in Rodimus never wavered. 

“What happened to you?” Drift muttered. Rodimus’ warmth surrounded him. “You’re so- so- tall!” 

“Pfft! Oh my god! Shut up!” Rodimus laughed. He playfully shoved Drift. “I wasn’t _that_ short!” 

“You really were.” Drift smiled. “Now you’re _almost_ as tall as me.” 

“ALMOST!” Rodimus gasped. “I’m totally taller than you now!” 

“You wish!” Drift snickered. 

“I DO wish!” Rodimus huffed. “What about you? You show up mysteriously, out of nowhere, all sleek and regal and stunningly gorgeous with a brand new badge and expect me not to ask what happened?!” 

Drift stared at Rodimus, his cheeks glowing. 

“Uh- not that you weren’t always stunningly gorgeous!” Rodimus fumbled over his words, his own face lighting up bright pink. “I mean- in a lot of ways you are exactly as I remember but totally different at the same time. I’m sorry. I’m so bad at words. That doesn’t make any sense.” 

“We never made any sense and I loved every second of us.” 

“Really?!” Rodimus squeaked. His bright blue optics burned with such hope and longing that Drift’s spark broke. How could someone so wonderful not believe in himself? 

“Really.” 

Drift took Rodimus’ hand and led him back to the edge of the cliff. Sitting down on the edge, he patted the ground beside him. Rodimus instantly plopped down beside him. 

“You know, I like high places too,” Drift began. He could feel Rodimus’ brilliant optics burning into him as he stared out across the panorama. The day’s final light glowed along the darkening horizon and thousands of stars winked into view. “Because they remind me of my very best friend. Someone exceedingly special… who just wanted to feel tall.” He cast a sideways glance at Rodimus with a mischievous grin. 

“Shut up,” Rodimus grumbled but a smile warmed his words. 

Wing’s Greatsword shifted in its sheath. Drift wriggled slightly to adjust the sword and Rodimus took the motion as an invitation to hook an arm around his shoulders and pull him close. Drift leaned into the touch like it was everything he ever wanted. 

For a split second, Drift could have sworn he saw Wing standing behind him with a stupid smug grin plastered on his face. His golden optics shone with pride. Like he knew Drift would find Rodimus all along. Wing’s Greatsword settled comfortably on his back. 

“I have so much to tell you,” Drift sighed, melting into Rodimus’ embrace. Even though he felt like he didn’t deserve it, Rodimus gave away his affection so freely, Drift couldn’t possibly refuse. Drift tentatively wrapped an arm around Rodimus’ waist to reassure himself that he wasn’t dreaming. 

“I can’t wait to hear all about it.” Rodimus hugged him. His engine purred and his frame radiated comfortable warmth. “I’ve got a few stories of my own to tell too.” 

Despite insurmountable odds, they had wound up together. Drift and Rodimus forged a bond that surpassed factions, frames, and names. No matter what, they always returned to each other. As the night deepened and the stars shone, Drift smiled. Whatever tomorrow may bring, he felt utterly content in the knowledge that they would finally face it together.

**Author's Note:**

> *Yes, Wing is quoting Tolkien at Drift. It seemed like something he would do. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who joined me for HotLock Week 2020!! It was a lot of work and loads of fun!! Seeing all the kudos and reading all the awesome comments gave me life!! I love writing but sharing with other people who enjoy reading makes it so special!! Thanks again!!
> 
> I appreciate your kudos and always love reading your comments!!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at: [lush-specimen.tumblr.com](lush-specimen.tumblr.com)


End file.
